Diary of a Henchwoman
by The Ladylike Oddball
Summary: Take a look into the personal journal of Task, a henchwoman for hire who's worked for all of Gotham's meanest and nastiest.
1. Entry 1

December 27th,

I don't quite know why I decided to buy a journal, I suppose with a stable income an impulse buy is allowed occasionally. I was never good at talking about myself, let alone writing, mostly because there isn't much I can tell you which I know for a fact is true.  
What I can tell you is this, I call myself Task, I'm 26, I live in Gotham City in some shabby little one room apartment, I live alone. I suppose I could tell you about my job, which is apparently much more interesting to anyone reading than me staying up and watching reruns of 'The Grey Ghost' at two in the morning. Which is true.

My job is providing transportation, deliveries and general grunt work for Gotham's Rogues.

Many would call me a 'professional henchwoman', I put them on my business cards (courtesy of the Penguin, who believed I should 'network' and 'publicize more' to get more jobs). I don't work for one villain solely, I work for almost all of them at different times, it's like temp work, morally questionable temp work. Here's a list of some of the employers I've had, excluding miscellaneous gangsters (I work with a lot of them and a lot of the time I can't distinguish "Baby Face" Bambino from "Chips" Malloy).

\- -Mr Freeze

\- - The Penguin

\- - Poison Ivy (deliveries, mostly. She tends to make her henchman herself)

\- - The Riddler (Once again, deliveries)

\- -Catwoman (transportation)

\- - Two-Face

\- - The Joker ft. Harley Quinn (Once, but never again)

\- - Mad Hatter

\- -Scarecrow

That's not to say I'll work with everyone, there are a certain few I've placed on a blacklist, whichever have habits of killing henchman. Though I'm quite pleased to admit that due to my apparent prestige that comes with years of dedication, loyalty and competence has earned me immunity. If anyone kills the best in the business, they'll have to answer to the employers who found me quite valuable.  
I'm sure you're thinking 'this sounds interesting, but surely you have your own motives'. And to that I answer with a resounding…. No.  
This is just my job, I don't need revenge or power, I just need a steady paycheck and honestly this is the only job I can realistically work solely because it's outside of the law.

You see, legally, I don't exist. Due to unforeseen and unfortunate events, I don't have a passport, a birth certificate, any medical files, a social security number or even a real name. I might have a real name but hell if I know what it is. But this is a story for another day.

My job isn't as exciting as people think it is, I don't fight as much as say, Batman. I mostly deliver things to and from the black market, I drive getaway vehicles, cars, vans, a truck or two, a good lot of heavy lifting is involved, maybe a kidnapping here and there. I try not to be too rough, it's not exactly my favourite part of the job.  
Sometimes the Bat gets involved with one of his boytoys or the redhead or some other person he's nabbed off the street, then I have to fight or get out of there, whichever seems like a better idea at the time, or whatever gets the job done with the least bodily harm.  
Let's just say, I know a thing or two about bodily harm.

There's a lot I've hinted to, I know. But if anyone finds this diary years into the future, all will be revealed another day. But for now, I should end it here. I got a big day tomorrow, it might make the 6 o'clock news. Sucks for me, really, I hate being on camera.


	2. Entry 2

December 29th,

Crazy night last night, worked with the Mad Hatter, it's in the name really. Had to kidnap some blondie, I think she's a famous burlesque actress in Vegas. Not exactly the regular target, but even I could say that blonde hair was beautiful. What was less beautiful was her attempts to make conversation, we were driving the van to the tea party, I was dressed as the Cheshire Cat, the fellas cuffed and tied her, but the tape over her mouth fell off.  
She asked me, her blonde hair flowing, why I had decided to shave my hair, that brunettes were so in these days and that I should just let it grow out. I remember what I said to her, I said: "Listen Lady, this isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday either but this is a kidnapping, not a hen's club." I try to stay disconnected with the kidnappings. I just end up feeling bad, not good for business.  
So we take her to the tea party, everyone is dressed as some kind of character from Alice in Wonderland. I was dressed as the Cheshire Cat, I'm always dressed as the Cheshire Cat.  
Now, Hatter isn't the worst rogue I've worked for, but I hate wearing costumes. The cat ears and the face paint, I was wearing pink and purple stripes for god's sake! I just want to do my job, but some people just love to over-complicate things. I had to make a damn good case to lose the tail, that's just impractical. I'm not a costume designer or anything, but I think my black jumpsuit fits me just fine, or just the clothes henchmen tend to wear, the hats, the coats and skivvies. I'm not going to get taken seriously looking like some cartoon character.

Anyway, this was all for naught, the Batman ended up showing up anyway, he did what Batmen do. He laid waste to Tweedle Dee and Dum, simultaneously (it's always inconvenient to come in twos), threw down the March Hare, dislocated my shoulder and I escaped the situation quick as I could, when it comes to kidnappings I don't exactly bring my A-Game. Even I have standards, some of them, I still drove the van.  
So Hatter's back in Arkham, I'm not going to be the Cheshire cat for a while yet. I'm just happy I didn't have to face arrest. That's normally the pattern, I get paid before we go out so I don't get screwed over, I do what I gotta do and leave without causing a scene. It works just fine, besides. It's hard to keep track of someone who doesn't have any records, let alone a criminal one. But that causes more harm to me than good, I'm stuck outside of the law, I've long since stopped dreaming of a normal life. There's no use really.

After that I went home, got out of the costume to wash and return it, had some leftovers from yesterday and watched some old period drama, it was called "Love Beneath a Moonless Sky", it was in black and white and I think it was about some countess eloping with a soldier or something. I can't remember it now, the next morning. If anyone read a story of my life, they'd lose interest as soon I get home.


	3. Entry 3

January 1st,

Holidays like New Year's Eve can go one of two ways, either nothing happens or everything happens. This year was the latter. Poor Batman, on patrol for nothing.  
Mr. Cobblepot decided that this year he would throw a private get together for all the rogues in Gotham City at the Iceberg Lounge for the occasion. I was asked to come along for security, but he let me join in with the festivities, if I didn't drink too much. I was never much of a drinker anyway.

As much as I hate costumes, I do quite enjoy wearing a nice suit every now and then. The Penguin insisted that everyone looked their best, if you could wear clothes that is (Clayface was exempt from the rule, Killer Croc wore a bowtie and Mr. Freeze was a no-show). Though a lot of Rogues already wear a suit, I suppose they wore better ones?

The night went as well as can be expected, off the top of my head, here's what I remember.

-The Joker spent the night "pranking" people, he nearly killed a caterer with a joybuzzer, got drunk, and climbed on the chandelier. The Penguin remembered why he stopped inviting the Joker to things.

-Crazy Quilt and The Ten-Eyed Man tried to get in, but they didn't meet Cobblepot's standards. Then again, even I would boot someone who brought a bag of potato chips to a formal party.

\- Riddler told me he liked the suit, that was nice. But then he told me a riddle, I told him I didn't care why a raven was like a writing desk.

\- Clayface sulked at the bar, so did Babydoll. Actors, right? They seemed to get along well.

\- Killer Croc nearly ate the buffet table, though I can't blame him, the Baked Alaska was really good.

\- Two-Face got in a fist fight with some drunk mob boss when he spilled his drink on him, had to break that up, spent a bit of the night talking it out with him.

\- Poison Ivy and Catwoman whisked Harley Quinn away and they hung out, they asked if I wanted to join them because "Roguettes stick together", but I declined, needed to watch for the Bat.

\- I was talked to a surprising lot, not only did the ladies ask how I was going, Harley kept touching my eyepatch, one or two smashed henchmen hit on me, Scarecrow and I had a chat about the concept of fear or something, at this point it was getting pretty late and I was about to head home.

\- I got paid quite well, Cobblepot always has enough cash to go around.

\- Batman never showed up, not too sure why, maybe he had something going on? He never seemed the partying type.

All in all, no one died, the food was good and honestly it was a decent party. As for New Year's resolutions, I was never really bothered with them. Maybe I'll try to quit smoking? I mean, I don't do it too much but I guess it would be better for me if I just stopped all together.  
I don't get hung up on things like that anyway, I'm used to disappointment, but not in myself. I guess when the bar's set so low it's hard to fail expectations.


	4. Entry 4

January 4th,

Helped raid a grand opening of Gotham's yearly Science and Technology Exhibition today. No shit, happens every year. It was Mr. Freeze this time, he was after a prototype for enhanced liquid nitrogen, I don't know how you could possibly 'enhance' something that could freeze something solid in seconds, but I'm not a scientist. He wanted it for his suit, something about being more durable towards heat.  
I'm surprised I didn't more calls in all honesty, I mean, if there was any place or time to steal some new high tech shit, it would be there and then. Poison Ivy had the right idea, headed straight for the microbiology wing with those creepy plant things to nab some of that fungi that turns ants into zombies.  
Even if she did need me, Victor asked first, not to mention I'm allowed to have some favourites. Though he does have a habit of giving less competent henchmen frostbite. Freeze and I go way back, and he's all right, once you get to know him. Mostly he's just really… Sad. Poor guy, like me he got the shit end of the stick. Losing his wife, becoming a popsicle and all that noise.

Someone who seemed to get his way all the damn time, however, was the one presenting the thing: The exhibition's top patron, Bruce Wayne. Yeah, his parents died, and yeah, that sucks, crime sucks, even I can admit that. But you know what else? He's the richest man in Gotham, he was raised by his butler (who, full disclosure, once flipped me onto a table, not saying I didn't deserve it, he's honestly kind of a badass for managing to do that, I can respect that), lives in a giant mansion and has a collection of orphans. So, considering he gets what he wants, Batman quickly came on the scene, we made off the liquid nitro, but not before I took a batarang to the shoulder.  
I did get to listen to Bruce's opening speech, about working hard and reaching the pinnacle of what this city had to offer for science and shit, like how the Wayne Foundation built themselves from the ground up. I knew what he was talking about, not sure he did though. As soon as his family croaked he inherited all of it, I mean it's not like he hasn't made strides, but he didn't do much.

I worked from the ground up, from literally nothing. Man, did I work, I started as a kid of 12 years, cleaning gutters and mopping blood off floors. A nameless kid with one eye, no one knew who I was, but hey, work was getting done. I made myself known by every rogue, gangster and thug in the city, chores turned to deliveries, deliveries turned to transportation, and all that… Well, I became Task when I was about 16, considering all of, well, the tasks. Before then I was just "The Kid", a blank slate, nothing. I don't remember anything before that, about 11 years of my life are void.

I don't feel like talking about that today. I put the nitro in Victor's lab and had a chat with him for a while, though he was more interested in Nora, I did a good job, so that warrants some attention. Nothing too mind blowing, he patched up my shoulder and I told him about the mission I had with The Mad Hatter a week before, how me and Rigby were going. He told me what he was planning to do with the nitro, and what he needed me to get for it. I knew he was listening, he's a pretty good listener. After that I went home and cuddled with Rigby, like I always do when I'm lucky I got home, escaping death and jail once again.


	5. Entry 5

January 6th,

Have I written about Rigby yet? I mean, I know who is but for the sake of anyone else reading this: 1. Get away from my stuff, and 2. Rigby is the only one I call family, even though he's a cat. He's a sweet moggy with one eye and a clipped ear, feral, kind of like me. He's my baby, honestly. He keeps me company, something nice to come home to after a rough night. There's no philosophical meaning behind the name, which is something Crane tried to ask to get a better sense of me, my fears I guess, he just sort of looked like a Rigby.  
He's lived with me for about two years, he likes salmon, cuddles and sitting on me. He rips up stuff when he wants attention and takes all the space on my already small bed, but I love him, and if Batman can have a dog and I think like three pet children, I get to have a cat. My employers know not to mess with him, that's grounds to go rogue really, I suppose that's enough of a sign that they respect me. Just a little.

I met him on the job, like most of the people I know. Guess who I was working for? Because it certainly wasn't Calendar Man. Catwoman is perhaps one of the least evil of the rogues, she's a jewel thief, and an animal rights activist. In fact, it was this acts of radical activism where I met Rigs. We were doing a mass breakout of cats from the pound, it was a corrupt business planning on kill the poor things. Though, I don't think that warranted the whole place going up in smoke, but it's part of the job to not judge.  
All the cats and kittens came with relative ease, except for one. The one-eyed, broken tailed stray I now know and love. It was clear that he'd seen some abuse, he'd attack Catwoman when she came close, he even hesitated with catnip. Security was closing in and if he didn't come quietly we'd have to give up. I saw myself in that cat, I didn't want a building caving in on him too. So, I took off my eye patch and tried to coax him towards me. Rigby became intrigued then, Catwoman told me to lie on my stomach and reach out my hand, let him come to me, and he did.  
I carried him into the van and we sped off as the now catless pound burned to the ground. I was driving, as I usually do, but the cat wouldn't leave me alone, sitting on my lap as we made our escape.  
It was sweet, I couldn't take my eyes off him either. Catwoman clearly knew that I wouldn't mind taking him off her hands, she also knew that I lived alone. As a result, she asked if I wanted to keep Rigby, I coaxed him over and he's clearly getting attached. And without hesitation I accepted the offer. She payed me a bit extra so I could pay for food, a litter tray and some toys, she still checks on us every now and then, to make sure he's taken care of, and here we are.

I don't know what I'd do without him now, he's my baby, my family. It's kinda sad that Rigby is all I have now, all I've ever had. I certainly don't consider my many employers family, not by a long shot. Which is certainly weird, after all, I was brought up around them.


End file.
